THRESHOLD

Sometimes, light hides. It doesn't vanish — it slips beneath the surface, into cracks, into the narrow gaps between stones. In the places no one looks, it waits. Not as a signal, not as a path — but as the possibility of being noticed.

It shimmers faintly, as if breathing deep below, and begins to respond to presence. First — with caution, glowing red, like an inner reflex to something foreign. But if one truly approaches — not to intrude, but to remain — the light unfolds. Rainbow-like. Fluid. Without reserve.

Threshold is an installation about the borders between sensation and response, between distance and trust. Here, light is not decoration, but organism. It answers — but does not obey.

The work explores that precise moment when space becomes aware of the body — and chooses: to resist, or to open.